i am drowning and heaving through the mess of my life

I am laughing too loudly and silent at all the wrong moments

i’m sick of causing casualties

i don’t need a small white cross on the side of the road

i need hungover afternoons and darjeeling tea

i need the dust of your attic and the sound of footsteps on the warped wood floors

i need the river and the solitude of the cathedral

i need beauty on the sandbars and sunburns on the dock

i need laughter and tears and poetry

i need soft hands and warm lips and

i need to sleep

i need to eat

i need to run run run